In Coromaur's Debt - Part 1.

Gideon Coromaur glided across the dull gray-paneled walkways of his outpost, his light footsteps barely betraying him with a whispered clink. Long unbound hair of silver hung loose draping his back like a cape that drifted ever so slightly on the simulated breezes the scrubbers produced. A gentle hum of machinery and subtle business played about him like his own personal symphony.  And yet, as capricious as the autumn breeze his mind was elsewhere, lost in recollection of bygone days and older times.

It had been, what, a good 20 years since the New Republic had begin it's shattering and fall from former glory. And now, after all this time, he had found a measure of peace. Coromaur, hidden away within his outpost, could breath easy. For in this conflicted political climate, and out here in an isolated section of the rim, he could get away with anything. It had taken time of course, time to cultivate and invest himself, but the end result had become Coromaur's outpost. A central hub for several system's commerce and transportation needs. And one that held no law, none but Coromaur's himself.

Prismatic eyes flashed from violet to iridescent silver as his memory returned to what had spurred this trip down memory lane. The package. A single package, unworthy of scrutiny or curiosity, hand delivered by one Coromaur's more trusted delivery specialists. It's contents held well paid for data on a new device, currently in transit, that could potentially blow an even bigger hole in the New Republic's already damaged reputation.

Every political faction there was would be after this, like sharks after wounded prey. That would guarantee both the items value and undoubtedly it's risk in obtaining. Gideon would have to move, and move fast. There would be no time to organize any of his regulars, and in a situation like this it would prove wise to have a disposable asset available. Perhaps someone in his debt, someone he could bend to his will.

As if on cue a steel bar stool sailed through the air out of a local pub to come to a violent end of it's journey against the wall before Coromaur. With a sly grin and light chuckle Gideon mused aloud to himself. "Ah, here is a volunteer now." Already meticulous plans began their weaving within the Machiavellian mind of Gideon Coromaur.